


Hello, stranger.

by side_stickie_note (lost_stickie_note)



Series: monthlysekai [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, Talking, phonesexoperator!Sehun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_stickie_note/pseuds/side_stickie_note
Summary: Jongin accidentally dials a wrong number and gets ahold of a phone sex operator.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Oh Sehun
Series: monthlysekai [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2175354
Comments: 24
Kudos: 110
Collections: monthlysekai's Re: KAI





	Hello, stranger.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I was mostly just going for a simple atmospheric piece, and toyed with this little idea in my head for a while before committing to writing it. I actually went over the word count that I thought I would stick to, haha. :)) But happy birthday to the sweetest boy! ♡♡
> 
> written for monthlysekai's Challenge #3 — Re: KAI with 'Hello Stranger'

“You’re drunk, Jongin.” 

“—Imm noo—” Jongin frowns, vaguely hearing his words slurring and trying to work his tongue into cooperating and almost succeeding before promptly running into the frame of his apartment door under the worried gaze of his best friend Kyungsoo.

“I’m—” Jongin huffs, waits for his head to stop spinning. “—fine.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t seem convinced but lets him be nevertheless after helping him to the couch, grabbing two cold water bottles from his fridge, placing them firmly next to him on the coffee table.

“You sure you’re okay?”

Jongin blinks rapidly, staring up at Kyungwoo, head tilted back from underneath his hand shielding his face, the light of his place too harsh and making him see spots after the dark of the night. He nods. Kyungsoo only hesitates for a moment before planting a kiss to his forehead.

“Call me tomorrow when you wake.” Kyungsoo gives him a look. “Remember, it’s Baekhyun’s birthday tomorrow. We’re all going to lunch.”

A click, and Jongin is left alone to his thoughts.

He must have dozed off because when he next checks his phone, it’s one in the morning, and he has three unread texts. Jongin takes a moment to rifle through his kitchen cabinets to scrounge up some Tylenol, washing it down with a swig of water, the impending headache threatening at the back of his head.

The texts are from Kyungsoo, checking in.

And for a brief moment Jongin has a shot of jealousy. Once upon a time, Kyungsoo would have just crashed at his place to make sure he was alright, but nowadays his friend always makes sure to leave before the night gets too ripe. Not that Jongin can begrudge the fact that Kyungsoo has Baekhyun to go home to.

Jongin had someone to go home to too.

At least he did until about three weeks ago.

The sharp stab of hurt over his not-so-distant breakup washes over him suddenly, the urge to down another ill-advised drink. Kyungsoo had coaxed him to come out tonight in an effort to lift his spirits, Jongin admittedly not doing much to fill up his social calendar after the breakup. And Kyungsoo had spent the entire night in a state of slight alarm, at points wrestling Jongin’s drink away from him.

Jongin figures one more beer can’t hurt much.

Two beers in and one terrible and cheesy rom-com movie playing on his television later, and Jongin is considering the unthinkable.

His fingers guide him to the familiar place of the last year and a half, his self-restraint crumbling under the alcohol’s scrutiny, his promise to himself not to keep up with his ex’s life coming apart in a few moments.

Fuck.

Jongin tries not to let himself think about whether or not the guy standing next to his ex might be an acquaintance of the romantic variety, the two of them smiling happily into the camera. Three days ago.

Four beers in, and Jongin has scrolled through the entirety of his ex’s Instagram feed since the breakup, running a deep dive into the mystery man. He discovers that his potential replacement works at a bakery, is good at karaoke, and is some sort of animal-whisperer, a clip of him standing in a pen at what looks to be a petting zoo of some sort as the animals flock to him, his ex laughing excitedly in the background.

It somehow feels worse that animals like him, Jongin always figuring that the little critters could sense when people are evil, which means the other boy is probably just as nice as he seems on paper, and Jongin doesn’t have the heart to be petty enough to hate a good person.

The betrayal digs into his side, and the unfairness of it all spills over him suddenly, feelings with nowhere to go but—

Jongin swears, quickly reminded that he had deleted his ex’s number two weeks ago in his attempt to move on. Something that he’s now cursing, fingers fumbling to remember his ex’s number scraped from the back of his mind, the blissfulness of a bad drunken decision settling into him.

It rings twice.

“Hello, stranger.”

It’s an unfamiliar voice, and Jongin feels the ache again, the image of his ex’s now-more-likely-than-not-new-boyfriend now having a voice to match.

“Oh, you must be the new boyfriend.”

Jongin tries his best not to sound sad and desperate.

“New boyfriend?”

The voice is deep and throaty, and Jongin is realizes that it’s likely because his replacement has been woken up by his call at nearly three in the morning, which means he’s in Jongin’s ex’s bed, and—

“Hello?” It comes through again. “Did you call the right number? Guilty Pleasures?”

What.

Curiosity somewhat peaked.

“What’s this?”

A light laugh from the other side.

“Okay, you definitely didn’t mean to call a phone sex operator, did you?”

Oh. _Oh_.

“Well, stranger. I hope you have a good night and get ahold of who you were trying to call.”

“Wait—” Jongin blurts out, unthinkingly. “—don’t hang up.”

There’s silence at first, and Jongin thinks maybe whoever is on the line has probably left. But then the slow breath comes, and Jongin finds himself continuing, confessing. “—I was trying to call my ex, but I deleted his number.”

More even breathing.

“We broke up a few weeks ago, and I’ve been a mess.” Jongin brings his legs up on the couch, tucking his knees into his chest, hugging his legs, pressing his phone to his ear, feeling somewhat silly for seemingly speaking into the void. “And I found out today that he might have already gotten a new boyfriend.”

A pause.

“You there?”

“Yeah. You wanna talk about it more?”

The voice is kind, a bit rough around the edges yet still slightly comforting.

“I just thought that we were happy.” He adds on. “At least we were.”

“Did something happen?”

“I don’t know.”

Jongin hugs himself tighter, feeling like tears might start to come, trying not to sniffle into the phone.

“There’s no shame in crying.”

Shit.

“I need tissues.” Jongin hiccups, wiping at his eyes with the back of his free hand, the embarrassment of breaking down to a stranger heating his face as he cries, making his way to his bedroom. Even more so when he realizes he doesn’t know how to ask the stranger to stay on the line because after all there’s no reason for him to.

“It’s okay. I’m still here.”

The unprompted answer to his unspoken question only makes him cry harder.

“I’m— sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

And Jongin really doesn’t. After the breakup, he had pushed all the concern from his friends away, choosing instead to indulge himself in heaps of mindless Netflix and with his trusty spoon scraping the bottom of many ice cream pints. But he hadn’t really _cried_ about it all, at least not until now.

He piles the blankets from his bed over himself after slipping out of his clothes and tugging on his pajamas, throwing his phone on his bed in the meantime, hoping that the boy on the line won’t hang up. Jongin plops the tissue box on his bedside table next to him, and he tries to blow his nose as gracefully as he possibly can.

Five tissues in under a minute.

A new record.

“Are you still there?”

“Hi, yeah, hi. I am.” Jongin quickly grabs his phone upon hearing the voice, soft and tinny while not on speakerphone. “I’m here.” He wipes his nose again. “I’m glad you’re still here too. I’m a bit surprised you haven’t left yet.”

The other boy’s laugh is higher pitched than Jongin expects, and he finds himself bursting out into a giggle even through his tears without warning. “Why would I leave? I’ve definitely preferred talking to you over my usual nightly clients.”

Jongin laughs again. “Even though all I’ve been doing is crying?”

“ _Especially_ since you’ve been crying.” The voice replies, the tone of amusement evident. “Your crying is like music to my ears compared to the stuff I usually hear.”

It’s only just then that Jongin remembers the person on the other line is a phone sex operator.

Oh, no.

He laughs harder, snorting unattractively. “I bet some of your clients cry too.”

“Oh, they _do_.”

More breathy laughter. 

And Jongin feels lighter than he has in a week.

“But yeah—” The voice grows soft. “—we’ve all been there, and I don’t mind lending an ear for someone who needs it.” A pause. “And you seem nice. I mean— I know I don’t know you, but—” Another laugh. “—you _sound_ nice. It might sound silly, but after talking to so many people, I feel like I can tell when people are nice just based on their voice—” His voice trails off embarrassedly.

Jongin doesn’t know what to say, overcome by a sudden shyness, the thought of asking for the other boy’s name popping up in his head, biting his lip hesitantly.

“Can I ask for your name?”

There’s a weighted silence, and he waits with bated breath, not daring to breathe out.

“My real name or the one I usually give to clients?”

The burn of wanting to _know_ tightens in his chest.

“—it’s Sehun.”

The voice, no, Sehun, continues.

“—my real name, that is.”

“Mine’s Jongin.”

Jongin breathes, his name coming out in a long wispy sigh.

With some surprise, he realizes that he’s stopped crying, his nose no longer runny.

“How’s your night been?”

It’s a simple enough question, a normalcy that Jongin isn’t sure he’s felt enough the last few weeks.

“You mean, besides spending the last half hour crying to a stranger?”

“Yeah, besides that.” Sehun sounds as if he’s about to laugh again on the other end, and it makes Jongin smile.

“Admittedly, not the worst.” Jongin’s smile softens, thinking. “I have a good best friend, Kyungsoo. He dragged me out tonight and kept me company.” He laughs. “Put up with me the whole night even though I was a miserable drunk.”

“Can’t be _that_ bad.”

“He held my hand as I vomited in the bathroom at the bar we were at.”

“Oh wow, takes me back to my university days.”

Jongin sends up a silent prayer that Sehun can’t see his face, feeling the heat pricking his cheeks in a blush at the other boy’s teasing tone. 

“He sounds like a good friend though.”

“He is. I’m definitely lucky.” Jongin slouches further down into his bed. “How was your night?”

“Better since talking to you.”

Sehun definitely _sounds_ flirty to Jongin’s ears, but he wonders if he’s just going crazy, having not flirted with anyone since the breakup and even further back if his relationship length is to be counted.

“I bet you say that to everyone.”

“No, just to the ones I like.”

Okay, there’s no mistaking that.

Jongin slinks down further into his bed, overly aware of the situation now—that he’s in bed, talking to a sex phone operator. A very nice one at that. With a voice that he’d very much like to take him places. He lets out an unbidden hiss, thighs squeezing together, mortified as he feels the coil of arousal tightening in his groin, his boxers uncomfortable.

“Hey, you okay?”

Even more embarrassing hearing Sehun’s concerned tone.

“I— I’m okay.” Jongin quickly rushes to change the subject, thankful once again that Sehun can’t see him. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Taking a nice long nap.” Sehun replies swiftly. “I get off at 6, and I’m going straight home to crash. What about you?”

“Nothing really.” The thought strikes him. “Oh, actually I have this lunch to go to. For a friend’s birthday.” He blurts out the crazy idea without thinking. “Do you want to come with me?”

“To your friend’s birthday?”

And Jongin recognizes the absurdity of the whole thing as soon as he hears the uncertainty in Sehun’s voice because of course it’s strange to go on a date with some random stranger that accidentally called a phone sex hotline, not to mention Sehun mentioning he’d only be finishing up at 6 in the morning, and it’s only after he said it that Jongin realizes how terrible of an idea it all is and— 

“What time?”

“Huh?”

“What time is your friend’s birthday gathering?”

“Uhhh, 11.” Jongin responds, dumbfounded. “In the morning though.”

“Okay, I can make that work.”

It takes a moment for Sehun’s words to sink in.

“You don’t have to come— I just asked out of impulse. You should go home and sleep.” Jongin grasps at straws hastily, trying to backtrack. “It was a dumb idea, and you don’t owe me anything—”

The laugh is back.

“I want to come.” A pause. “But only if it’s a date.”

“A date?” Jongin hears his voice come out akin to a surprised squawk.

“Yeah, if I’m going to have to stare down a roomful of your friends as they bombard me with every possible question running on 3 hours of sleep, this better be a date.”

Jongin flushes, the back of his neck warm.

“Are you sure you want to come?” He can’t help the bit of excitement that creeps into his voice. “I mean, you don’t really know me—”

Sehun sounds as if he’s smiling, at least that’s what Jongin thinks.

“You sound like someone worth taking a chance on.” A mildly concerned tone. “Unless you think one of your friends is going to bite my head off or something. What’d you say his name was? Kyungsoo?” A bit of genuine alarm now. “Like you were bawling your eyes out tonight and tomorrow you show up with a date. Is he going to rip me to pieces?”

“No, no, he wouldn’t.” Jongin reassures, while at the same time Kyungsoo’s little disapproving frowning face swims in his mind. “Not to _pieces_ at least.”

“Christ.” Sehun snorts. “Well, I guess it’s not too bad of an idea to get the friend interrogation out of the way early.”

Sehun’s voice softens. “But yeah, I’ll be there. Want to give me your number? I have a piece of paper and pen ready.”

Jongin nods, then realizes that Sehun can’t see him nodding, so clears his throat instead. “Yeah.” He reels off his digits.

“Text me?” He feels almost silly for asking.

“I will.” Sehun gives a low hum, voice dropping into a low mutter. “I have to go now though. My manager is starting to give me weird looks since I’ve been on this one call for so long.”

“Goodnight, Jongin.”

“Goodnight, Sehun.”

Jongin whispers his goodbye carefully, waiting until he hears the click of Sehun hanging up over the line.

When he gets back from brushing his teeth, there’s one text notification, and Jongin happily responds with the restaurant for Baekhyun’s birthday lunch, shooting Sehun a reply.

 **Unknown**  
Hello not-so-stranger.  
This is Oh Sehun btw.  
The phone sex operator.  
Not some random weirdo.

 **Kim Jongin**  
[location pin]  
Here’s the restaurant.  
Can’t wait to see you tomorrow!

 **Oh Sehun**  
Sweet dreams, Jongin.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos appreciated! ♡♡
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/sidestickienote) | [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/sidestickienote)


End file.
